Film Jealousy
by Backroads
Summary: All Chloe and Milo wanted was a fun night at the movies. Why are ex husbands such pains? ChloeMorris
1. The Date

"So I'll pick up at seven, then?"

"Better make it ten to. I hate being late for the previews. They're the best part, everybody knows that. And then you can't find the good seat."

"So you're saying that you want to sit in an empty movie theatre for twenty minutes? Watch lousy Starplex entertainment?"

"Good grief, Milo, it isn't that bad."

"Ten to seven, then. Got it and looking forward to it."

Any idiot that thought one could actually have a private conversation in CTU should be shot. For crying out loud, it was a government building, meant only for privacy to the outside world; inside was a spring of gossip and so-called security secrets. And people calling across stations in a room with the same sound dynamics as an amphitheatre was not exactly increasing the surreptitiousness. Whatever happened to workplace professionalism?

Amazing when petty annoyances proved themselves in serendipity.

Morris did not bother to reveal the obvious. Chloe and Milo were back to their work, anyway, plans for the evening discussed and put aside and already heard by all non-deaf co-workers—not that Milo and Chloe realized that, the silly lovebirds. If Morris said anything about it, darling Chloe would freak and probably hit him. Few knew that about her, but the girl could really pack a punch if you pissed her off enough. Glorious. He kept his eyes glued on his screen despite the fact that he had forgotten what the hell he had been working on. The plan was forming. He hadn't allowed it on purpose, but he had never been the one to defer moments of personal inspiration.

So he was a little jealous. Of course he was jealous. There would be absolutely no point if he were not. Screwing up a date with no inner motivation would be exceedingly low, even for him.

Unfortunately the plan had yet to have any real details. No matter. The idea was there, and that was what mattered.

He allowed himself a glimpse of Chloe. No smile, smiles were rare for her and always had been. Some women were smiley, not her. Not that she wasn't pretty when she smiled. But smiley people were incapable of being as delightfully nasty as was Chloe. Her eyes were locked on her monitor, fingers moving with incredible speed.

He tore his eyes away. His heart was pounding. He certainly had not intended for that to happen. But then again… heck, why not? He did love the woman, had never stopped doing so.

And it was painful to see someone you loved dating a Mouseketeer.

He sighed. He really should be getting back to work, whatever that was. L.A. was finally free of a terrorist threat. Was it just him, or did everything bad happen in L.A.? He had never seen that crap in Beverly Hills. Was any of this actually important? Somebody at the water cooler had brought up a conspiracy theory involving the head honchos having some sort of mind-reading machine. B.S., probably, but if there were any truth in that he would so get fired.

So how was this movie date going to work? Was Milo going to borrow his parents' minivan? Good ol' dad letting his boy have the nice car for the night? Or maybe the 'rents themselves would drive—the minivan, of course. Maybe the would let Milo have the dignity of knocking on Chloe's door himself. Maybe he would bring her a cheap corsage.

Morris laughed aloud, drawing several stares, including Chloe's. Well, if they could be privy to the little image in his head, of Milo in a tacky tuxedo and a corsage fresh out of the refrigerator, his parents waiting out in the minivan. How old was the guy, anyway? Just some lucky soul fresh from MIT, still living in his parents' basement? Morris was too lazy to pull up that date, or actually ask. Probably just kept his age well. Yeah, well, he was missing out on world of mature and distinguished charisma. Drowned rats were incapable of pulling off that sort of allure. Poor kid.

He also suffered some sort of power complex, as well.

And yet he was taking Chloe to the movies.

Morris bit his lip as his eyes slid, of their own free will, to Chloe. She was really into her work. Just like her. She was devoted to her work, that woman.

If only her station wasn't in such a clear view. Though it was very convenient for annoying her. She was so wonderfully easy to annoy.

But he really had not expected that working with her so close would be so hard. It was a good thing that the right wink in her direction could send her into a most unflattering fluster. A very good thing, in fact, what with all this other crap that went on, unspoken and otherwise. Wasn't this whole gig supposed to be temporary?

Life hadn't turned out that way. He snuck other glance at Chloe, longer this time. He had better not be the only man in the world still in love with his ex-wife.

A box popped up onto his screen. Ah, yes. Inter-office messages. Thanks to technology it would never be avoided again. Morris smiled as he noticed the sender.

_Stop staring, moron._

And Chloe didn't even bother to look up.

He quickly typed a reply. _But you're just so gorgeous._

Good. Now she was frowning.

What movie was she planning on seeing? Would she have to buy Milo's ticket?

At least he knew the theatre.

And a few details were popping up.

He smiled once more, wondering if Chloe were watching. If only she weren't so much fun to annoy.


	2. Popcorn Issues

"You are planning on taking me to dinner afterwards, aren't you? I can never stand a guy who will pay for a conversation-free movie and refuse to take me to dinner." Sariah had always been something of a multi-tasker, a woman with the ability to heckle, walk, and dig through a messy purse all at the same time.

"Dinner," Morris echoed with a shrug. Heck, why not dinner? He knew a few good places. "Are you all right going to dinner with just-a-friend? Because if you are planning on seducing me tonight, I would like to know ahead of time."

Sariah located what she must have been looking for, a tube of lip balm. Women and their lip balm. Chloe had kept tubes of the stuff everywhere. Her purse, her car, her desk. On top of the washing machine. She did not seem to own less than a dozen tubes at any given time. Who needed that much lip balm? Though if he had ever tried to borrow any… Sariah spread the stuff all over her lips and smiled. "Sorry, Morris, but I'm a happily engaged woman, and you are hardly worth that kind of hell of a break-up. You don't even have to get me real dinner. Take me to Burger King or something."

Morris laughed. He had known Sariah for some time, and there had never been any romantic sparks in the least. But a good friend—one could joke around with a good friend. "I'm not worth a one-night stand? Sariah, I'm heart-broken."

"Yeah, well, stay that way." She jerked her way through the usual wandering crowds to the Starplex door and pulled it open. "If your wife thinks I'm a one-night stand, so much the better."

Ex-wife, Morris wanted to say. Instead he just followed Sariah for through the doors. "And you are one lovely one-night stand."

"I know. I'm Asian. We were born sexy." She blew him a kiss before marching to the ticket stand. "Do you know what movie they are seeing?"

"No idea. Aren't one-night stands supposed to know these things?"

"You disgust me." She pounded a fist down onto the ticket booth. Sariah liked to scare acne-faced teenagers, and she was good at it. "My pimp here needs two tickets to… actually, it doesn't matter, we just plan on going for it in the back seats."

Yes, that was one might scared acne-faced teenager.

Morris smiled, maintaining a steady, warm gaze at the teenager. "She's joking. Mostly. Though you could help us by letting me know if Jeremy is working tonight." As far as he knew, Jeremy still worked here, and hopefully there wasn't some gum-scraping janitor named Jeremy.

The kid nodded and all but scampered away.

"Jeremy?" Sariah whispered. "Morris, please tell me you have money. I'm sure your place pays you well enough."

"Aren't you a liberated woman capable of paying for a date?"

"Aren't you supposed to be my dashing British knight of chivalry? Besides, I'm not your date. I'm your make-believe whore of jealousy."

"Though with that ring on you might as well be my fiancé."

She grinned wickedly. "You are truly an evil man, Morris O'Brian."

Oh, yes he was. He took her hand and kissed it. "And your real fiancé is certainly lucky to have you."

And then the kid was back, now in the accompaniment of a one Jeremy Goodson. Yes, that was the correct Jeremy, and Jeremy was smart enough to recognize Morris. Jeremy stopped short. Like running into a glass pane.

Morris smiled while Sariah looked on. "Hello, Jeremy. Nice to you see here."

"I have a job here." Jeremy stated the obvious—anyone could see the official Starplex vest he wore. "I—"

"Make the popcorn?"

Apparently making the popcorn was pretty low on the list of power at a movie threatre, for Jeremy managed a few steps closer to his side of the ticket window. "No! I'm the assistant manager."

Morris gave a low whistle. "Whoa. I'm impressed by that, Jeremy. I really am."

"How did you know I was here?"

"Oh, come on. Don't be so naïve. Like no one in the world is capable of tracking the obvious. Or a man working at a neighborhood movie theatre." Morris now had his arms resting on the booth. Ex-cons were so easy to spook.

"I haven't done anything wrong," Jeremy insisted.

The acne-faced kid was looking pretty entertained, as well was Sariah.

"I never said you did, Jeremy. I never said you did. I happened to come by here, discovered you worked here, and thought I'd say hi. So, hi. Oh, and I was wondering if my lady friend and I could get a favor from you, if it all possible…"

Jeremy took a deep breath.

"We have a pair of friends here. We don't know which film they are seeing, and we were rather hoping to surprise them. So while I do realize that movie hopping is rather frowned upon, would you mind making an exception for an old friend?"

Jeremy's face was a marvelous shade of red, but he whipped out a pad of sticky notes and scribbled something down.

"A terrorist?" Sariah whispered as they walked down the hall.

"Hardly," Morris replied. "An acquaintance of my brother's nephew. Something convoluted like that. I don't even know that he went to prison for. Like I have power over a parole violation. It's amazing what kind of fear my job can strike into people."

"You play on a computer all day," Sariah muttered as she slipped her arm around his.

"And get paid for it, too. Can you believe that? Now I assume you will be wanting popcorn so we'll just…"

His voice trailed off as they rounded the corner to the snack bar.

By his expression and those of everyone around them, Milo was yelling at the snack bar kid on the account of bad popcorn. Chloe stood next to him, looking positively annoyed—hopefully at Milo.

"That's them, isn't it?" Sariah stifled a giggle.

Morris nodded. He had stopped short, of course. "I really hadn't expected it to be this easy."

"That's Chloe, then?" Sariah had never met Chloe. "She's lovely, Morris."

Of course she was. "I know."

"You stay here, then. I'll buy the popcorn. As a liberated woman." He could feel her studying his face. Oh, Sariah. "Unless you want to introduce me now."

Well, that wouldn't be so bad. He shrugged. "Why not? We're just two couples bumping into each other. Conveniently enough."

And so it was. They strolled up to the snack bar and stared at the too-large ads detailing the prices of popcorn.

Chloe and Milo did not look behind them as they gathered their snacks together. A large bag of popcorn, the drinks. The drink Milo set down on the counter so close to Morris. All they had to do was glance away from their stupid food for one little second…

"I love your earrings!" Sariah exclaimed in the random introduction phase.

There was a salt shaker nearby, as well.

Chloe whirled around in mild surprise, hands leaping to the dangly flower earrings she wore. "Oh! Well, thanks. I found them on clearance…"  
Would it be juvenile to empty the contents of the salt shaker into the drink? Milo was now sampling the popcorn.

"It's too buttery, now," he said.

The girl rolled her eyes and snatched the bag back.

Everyone was distracted, and Morris had practiced some amateur magic back in high school. He filled his hand with salt, lifted the drink lid, and dropped the salt into the cup. Yes, it was juvenile, but could he be really expected to resist?

"Milo, get over it." Chloe's attention was back from Sariah. "Miss, we will just take the popcorn as it is."

There was little gratitude left in the girl's smile. Irritation was a powerful emotion. But at least the poor thing did not have to deal with Milo and his popcorn issues. She handed it to Chloe, who…

She nearly dropped the too-buttery bag. "Morris!"

He grinned. "Hello, love."

She pursed her lips together. She was probably screaming in her head. "How long have you been right here?"

"Long enough to decide on what size of popcorn I want. Fancy meeting you here."

"Out of all the movie theatres in the city," Milo put in. Not a nice tone. He must have still been angry over the popcorn.

"Who would have imagined?"

"Morris, babe, you know these people?" Sariah was good. She was very good. The shock of serendipity was a skin to her.

"Two co-workers of mine. Milo and Chloe. Milo and Chloe, I would like you to meet Sariah Claver."

Sariah giggled and clung to his arm. "You didn't tell the people at your work about us?"

Morris smiled at her. "I thought it was our secret, dear." He kept the corner of his eye open for Chloe. She still looked pissed.

"We're engaged!" Sariah said with another giggle.

That seemed to perk Milo's mood. "Congratulations."

"Thank-you." Stay good and demure. This really was fun. "What movie are you to seeing?"

"The new Keanu Reeves one."

Morris noticed that Chloe stepped on his foot. Was the man truly stupid enough to give away so much information?

Milo would be a Keanu Reeves person.

"Which we are about to miss," Chloe said with a hiss. "So let's go. Pleasure to meet you, Sariah. Milo, did you get my drink?"

Uh-oh.

But he decided not to say anything as Milo handed her the drink with the slightly-skewed lid.

Never mind that. He and Sariah would wait a few minutes before following. Though he so hated to miss the fun parts.


	3. Popcorn Fights

Apparently not too many people were interested in watching Keanu Reeves that night. Weekdays, that was the problem. People liked to stay home and bond with their families on weeknights. Be normal, domesticated people. Not run around watching movies. Then again, it wasn't even a proper action flick. It was a romantic comedy. Milo was forcing Chloe to watch a romantic comedy, when everyone in the free world knew Chloe only liked to watch romantic comedies by herself. Not with a date.

What moron had cast Keanu Reeves as the male lead of a romantic comedy?

"Did they sit in the middle on purpose?" Sariah whispered. She held Morris' hand tight as they slipped into the theatre. The lack of Keanu fans made people searching easy. An elderly couple, a few teenage girls who probably should be at home with school work, and Milo and Chloe, dead center, chatting and munching on popcorn. Clearly she had not yet tasted her drink.

Milo seemed to be of more interest to her.

"Ouch." Sariah pulled her hand away. He had squeezed it much too tight.

"Sorry," he murmured.

Milo glanced up, a mere one-second glance, before returning his gaze to Chloe. That one-second glance was not a happy one.

Ooh, was Milo feeling a little jealousy?

The theatre was stadium seating. Morris studied the arrangement, trying to decide what position would be the best, strategically. With this type of seating, he could get a good aim from anywhere. After all, it would be a little much to sit directly behind them. As tempting as it was.

He could still smell Chloe's perfume.

"Four rows behind," Sariah said matter-of-factly.

"Huh?"

"I've tossed popcorn plenty of times. Four rows is best if you're feeling risky."

He rolled his eyes. "I much appreciate that add-on."

"You're welcome."

Chloe seemed to forcing all her attention on Milo. What in the world did they have to talk about?

He tried not to watch her as he climbed the steps to the row Sariah had decreed: four rows back. Dead center.

Milo shot another nasty glare-of-death.

Yes, that was definitely jealousy. Morris knew jealousy when he saw it. Or maybe he was overreacting and it wasn't jealousy. But the drowned rat was threatened. But why should he be threatened? They were simply two couples in the same theatre. And it just happened that Milo was dating Morris' ex-wife.

Chloe's precious trailers started. Oh, how she loved the trailers. Of course she did. Everyone knew they were the best part of the movie-going experience. Trailers only showed the good parts of movies—therefore, they were more entertaining. The real movies always had boring parts.

Sariah tossed a kernel of popcorn into her mouth.

There was another reason he had purchased popcorn. Morris took a piece and ate it. Buttery, not too much salt but enough to give it the correct zing. Zing was a word with multiple meanings.

The trailers ended. Opening credits began. It was some Lilith Fair girl from the 90's. Who wrote these things? He would have taken Chloe to see something with lots of explosions and absolutely no plot. Now that was romance.

Sariah grinned at him and tossed the first fluffy bit of popcorn. It arced gracefully over the next few rows and hit Chloe in the back of the head. Not enough to make her notice anything, of course, but that was half the time.

Morris suppressed a laugh and aimed. His hit Milo in the neck, then bounced onto Chloe.

He thought he saw Chloe twitch, then tossed another.

She was much too still to not have noticed by now.

Sariah giggled and tossed one at Milo. It sailed over his head and presumably onto his lap. He looked up in confusion, as if the popcorn had fallen from the sky. But only for a second.

Then he turned around.

Morris stared at the screen and refrained from eating popcorn. He was pretty decent at acting innocent.

Finally, after a third glare (the boy was very good at glaring) he turned back around—placing his arm precariously around Chloe's shoulders.

She didn't exactly melt into the embrace.

Morris took a deep breath, then tossed a whole handful of popcorn.

And something inside of Chloe snapped. Morris felt a stab of fear. Evil Chloe was not good.

However, this was going to be very interesting.

She shoved Milo's arm away. He stared up at her, surprise written all over his face.

Morris watched with mild amusement.

"Is this bad?" Sariah asked.

He heard himself laugh.

Yes, it was Evil Chloe. At least she didn't leap over the seats. Instead, with great dignity, she walked all the way out, up the steps, and into their row.

She was wielding her drink cup.

"Chloe," he said sweetly, with surprise. "Aren't you enjoying the film?"

Her nose twitched. Sometimes it did that when she was angry. Really angry. Then, without a word, she pulled the lid from her drink and dumped the freezing, salty contents all over his lap.

With a yell he leaped up. "What was that for?"

Everyone was staring. Which Chloe was quick to point out. "Outside. Now."

"This suit cost…"

"I could care less. Outside. Now."

Sariah put on her best damsel-in-distress face. She was no help.

Well, at least he had Chloe on her own.

She didn't say another word until they were outside the theatre. Ice and pop still covered him. She tossed her cup into the trash, then turned to him. "I don't think the salt does much for that drink, do you?"

He shrugged. "Actually, I thought that was your boyfriend's drink."

"He's not my boyfriend," she snapped. Too quickly. His heart suddenly quickened. "Cute, Morris. Really mature."

"I thought so, too. But didn't the drowned rat buy you a new drink?"

He wasn't sure, but it seemed there was a twist of a smile on her pretty little mouth. "I didn't tell him. I'm not stupid enough to realize you weren't going to follow me in there."

He smiled. "You know me very well, don't you?"

"Too well." All sign of a smile was gone. "Knock it off with the popcorn, you and your buddy."

"She's my fiancé."

"No, she isn't, you moron. You're not engaged."

He shrugged again. "How do you know?"

"Because I like to think you would tell me if you proposed marriage to another woman." She took a deep breath, right through her teeth. "No more popcorn throwing, okay?"

"But we weren't throwing popcorn!"

Her nose twitched again. It was so cute, he could hardly stand it. He hadn't been this close to her, just the two of them, in so long. For crying out loud, didn't she get it? "Morris, it's bad enough that you would follow me on a date, but don't like about it, at least! That's… that's it…" She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "Sometimes I can't stand you."

He couldn't help it. His hand reached out and grabbed hers. Without free will. "And the rest of the time?"

She yanked her hand back. "Morris, why do you always do this? Can't you just say what you are thinking?"

"I said that I was not thinking about throwing popcorn."

She shot him a final glare and headed back to the doors. "Is it so hard for you to just say a simple "I still love you"?"

Huh? The doors swung shut, and Morris found himself by himself in the hall while a kid walked by with a carpet sweeper.

What had she just said?

I still love you?

Technically, that had been a demand for him to say it. But why?

He suddenly felt very light-headed. It wasn't a feeling he liked. Though this particular time, it wasn't so bad.

Except he was still covered in Coke. The neon sign for the bathrooms was conveniently bright.

Coke did not come out easily, Morris quickly discovered. Besides, Chloe had dumped it in a very inconvenient and most awkward spot. How like her.

The door opened behind him. "Morris!"

He turned.

It was Milo. Looking furious.


	4. Bloodshed and Love

It was considerably easy to smile at someone like Milo when they were so angry. Like Morris was actually afraid of the little drowned rat. He didn't care how much CTU power that man had.

"Hello, Milo," Morris said brightly. "Did the movie reach a dull part and the soda pop come too quick? All of that stalls are presently available."

That only seemed to make them man all the more angry. "Why the hell are you here?" he demanded. His dark eyes were practically flaming. "Dragging my girlfriend away from the first date we've had in weeks—"

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize Chloe was your girlfriend. I assumed you were here on CTU business. Lots of terrorists threats involving popcorn, you know."

"You've upset her. I hate to see her upset. Unlike you, I actually care about Chloe."

There went the good mood. Morris' smile faltered. "What?"

"You don't care for her at all."

Morris decided that he really didn't like Milo at all. "I hardly think that is for you to judge."

"You broke her heart."

"I don't think you quite know the sit—"

That was when the punch came, a flying fist through the bright bathroom lights and a few stars as it struck.

Morris swore as his hand went to his nose. The blood was burning not.

And Milo just stood there, fists still clenched, mouth still scowling.

Oh, he did not. Morris took a deep breath and swung. He wasn't a bad fight himself.

He made pretty good contact, if he did say so himself.

But so did Milo.

"This isn't about the popcorn, isn't it?"

"This is about Chloe!" Milo was sounding like a child. "The woman I love."

That was it. Morris shoved him into the counter, smacking the man's head against the mirror. Milo kicked back.

It might sound strange to fight over a woman in a men's restroom, and Morris realized that. He had never liked fighting.

But somehow this was okay.

Within five minutes, the handle of the sinks had been busted off, and there was enough blood to warrant a police investigation.

And Morris' new shirt had been torn to pieces.

They leaned against opposing walls, panting and staring at each other. It was a showdown. It was OK Corral all over again.

Then, without warning, Milo threw open the door and dashed out.

He was not going back into that theatre

"Get back here!" Morris screamed as he followed.

Milo didn't slow down. He was not a bad runner.

The mostly empty snack bar was before them, teenagers staring in horror. They could not be blamed.

Milo grabbed the salt and began swinging.

How original. Salt in the eyes. Not quite the most effective weapon.

The word was out before Morris even realized so. "Soda!"

And that was when the teenagers began laughing.

The salt shaker fell from Milo's hand as his face burned with embarrassment.

Morris felt exactly the same way.

The manager would be out soon.

"I still despise you," Morris muttered.

Milo nodded in agreement.

Something had just been said in silence, and Morris had no clue as to what it was.

So they waited while one of the teenagers went for the manager. And probably the police.

He appeared at the end of the hall.

There was only one more thing to say. Morris locked eyes with Milo. "I never want to see you dating my wife again."

A long pause. "She's not your wife."

It demanded a response, but Morris didn't have one. How was he going to explain this to Sariah?

"That wasn't your fiancé, was it?" Milo continued.

No point in continuing to lie. Not after this humiliation. He shook his head. "I'm a pathetic soul who faked a girlfriend."

"You didn't have to lie about it."

The manager was there. "I saw the bathroom. Do I have to call the police?"

"No. I'm responsible for them both."

Damn. Morris closed his eyes. Chloe. Chloe was back to witness him drenched in blood. After fighting in the bathroom.

"Chloe!" Milo.

She did look so beautiful when she was angry. There was no denying that.

"You beat the crap out of each other," she said. Her arms were crossed, her face firm. "How mature."

"Chloe," Milo repeated. "I was worried… you were upset…"

"Milo, shut it. I'm mad at you and you won't be forgetting it."

"I'm still calling the police," the manager said. That awful Jeremy was next to him. Looking disturbingly smug.

"I'm not finished with them!" Chloe shouted. "Milo, the date is over and I'm not bailing you out of jail."

"But—"

"I'll call you tomorrow. Morris, now."

Uh-oh. He obediently approached her. Her eyes were those of a demon's. "Darling, I'm sorry… he started it…"

"I don't care who started it."

"But he did start it. Just to let you know."

The manager was now on the phone. And the police station was very close.

"Morris, being fought over is not as appealing as people like to make it sound."

Why couldn't he have just continued that other conversation? "Who said I was fighting over you?"

Her face paled. "You weren't?"

"Well, maybe I was, but Milo still started it."

"And you fought back?"

"Sir…" It was Jeremy. Acting like they didn't know each other.

Morris sighed. "Yes, Chloe, I did."

"Why?" There was the tiniest of smiles on her lips.

"Sir, I need you to come with me."

"I'm talking to my wife. Go away."

"I'm not your wife anymore," Chloe said, smile gone.

"Yes, well, you should be."

She blushed. "Morris, you're about to be arrested. Along with my date. And I'm actually enjoying this movie. Your fake fiancé is a very nice person."

Sariah. "You will explain to her why I'm not returning?"

"Of course." The smile was back. "Have fun getting arrested."

She had enjoyed this. How like her. She turned back to the threatre.

"Chloe!" He had no idea what he was going to say.

She turned around. "Yes?"

His tongue was numb. But he had to say it. "Chloe, I…"

"Yes?" she repeated.

"I…"

"I still love you."

The smile increased, just a little bit. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

And then she disappeared, off to watch Keanu Reeve with his date.

Somehow, Morris didn't mind.

And watching Milo get arrested as well made it almost worth it.

The look on his face was beyond the almost.

**The End.**


End file.
